Bullet
by kradnohikari
Summary: One night at the hospital doesn't end well for Derek. Derek/Greg.


**Disclaimer- **I don't own the characters.

**Warnings- **AU, MaleXMale

**Pairing- **DerekXGreg

This is just a bit of me messing around with the characters from Trauma Center. Written for a challenge I was given... Review?

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Leaning over his desk, the young brunette doctor, pushed his glasses a bit higher up his face, his light brown pools looking over the records of the patient he was currently taking care of in the ICU, a sigh passing his lips. A young girl was saved from his efforts, however she would not be able to use her left arm the same way again, and it was not functioning right due to the severity of the wound. It was always sad to hear that, he never liked knowing that he had failed a patient, not after his newfound strength to become a better doctor.

Hearing the door open, he smiled briefly, looking at his watch. It was a bit early, but sometimes Greg liked to surprise him. "I'm almost finished. Then we can go out for breakfast." It was dark out, the small stream of moonlight filtering through the small window to his right. The lack of response was not abnormal for the older doctor to give him either. Sometimes the male would come in and surprise him he liked that best. Hiding his smile behind a hand, he scribbled away on the last of the sheets, making sure he could get this child out with the least amount of damage possible.

He thought everything was all right, until he felt the cool metal against the small of is back, from where the chair was divided into two. Hot breaths rolled over his ear, smelling of nicotine, the smoke scent encroaching on him. Opening his mouth, he shut it waiting for whomever this was to speak.

"Dr. Stiles you killed him… You're the reason my son died and now I'm going to return the favor." Flicking off the safety the sound echoed throughout the room, a low chuckle escaping the crazed father.

Dropping the pen, Derek pushed his glasses up farther, daring to look at the male from the side. "Whatever happened to your son I'm sorry. It wasn't my fault though. I believe you have me mistaken, please put down the gun." He pleaded gently, freezing when the gun pressed deeper into his flesh. If it hit there it could paralyze him and the chances of death were high.

Shaking his head, the irrational man, pulled away aiming higher up and pressed the trigger. "My son never had the chance to live out his dreams. I'm merely taking away what you stole from him Doctor." The last part was laced with anger.

Turning around in his seat, the brunette saw the trigger being pressed, the shot ringing out into the air, his ears ringing from it. He felt the pain and it took his mind a moment to realize he had been shot. Grabbing his wounded chest, he fell to his knees, trying to force air into his lungs while assessing the situation. Someone would come they had to have heard that.

Out of the corner of his darkening vision, he saw the male realize the same thing and turn, running out. Breathing heavily, Derek looked at his bloody hands, the crimson elixir flowing freely, staining the floor and his scrubs. It was bad; already he could feel his body starting to shut down. What ever had been hit, his panicking wasn't helping matters. The door swung open again he thought, the sound seeming to be far away at this point, his vision clouded almost completely over. Falling onto the ground, he welcomed the darkness, hearing a voice screaming to get a gurney so they could move the patient to the ER.

Groaning slightly, the young male tried to open his eyes, the world slightly blurry as he did so. Reaching over to where his nightstand would be, he tried to find his glasses, managing to hit only air. What had happened? How had he gotten here? It took his brain a few minutes to catch up, the shooting coming… And the heavy blood loss… It seemed he had been saved.

It was like a switch, the moment he remembered the dull thudding pain of his wound decided to make itself known, bandages wrapped tightly around his chest, covered only by the paper gown his patients would wear. Wincing, he brought a hand to his head, seeing movement out of corner of his eye. It was blurry movement, but movement none-the-less.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

The voice it sounded so familiar. Raising his head, he saw Greg standing there, in his normal lab coat, the shirt underneath looking slightly crumpled and his gray hair standing up in a few places. "I'll try not too." His throat was dry and he gratefully took the drink that was offered to him, managing to get most of it down without it dripping onto his shirt.

"You'd better not." Leaning forward, Hope Hospital's senior surgeon leaned in, softly kissing his lover on the lips, before pulling away, ruffling the short hair, a small smile of relief crossing his face. "I'll be back later. You know the routine." Stepping away, he paused as if an afterthought hit him, reaching out and grabbing the square frameless glasses, placing them closer to Derek. "For later I brought some reading material for you to study up on." Waving, he turned and left the room, hands shoved in his pocket.

Nodding his head, Stiles touched his lips, the tingle still there. The senior surgeon had to have been up for a very long time tending to him to look so bad. It touched him. Grabbing the first book, he slid on his glasses, smirking at the title, How to Survive a Gunshot Wound, what a trickster. He opened it anyway, starting to read, trying to keep himself comfortable even as the rest of the employees came in to check on him.


End file.
